Find out in this gripping, epic conclusion to the bestselling THAT MAN series. Be prepared to laugh, cry, and swoon!

About The Author

Nelle L’Amour is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author who lives in Los Angeles with her Prince Charming-ish husband, twin teenage princesses, and a bevy of royal pain-in-the-butt pets. A former executive in the entertainment and toy industries with a prestigious Humanitus Award to her credit, she gave up playing with Barbies a long time ago but still enjoys playing with toys with her husband. While she writes in her PJs, she loves to get dressed up and pretend she’s Hollywood royalty.

Her books include the highly rated Seduced by the Park Avenue Billionaire Boxed Set, Undying Love, Gloria’s Secret, Gloria’s Revenge and the That Man trilogy. Gloria’s Forever, a novella, will be published in Spring 2014.

Once inside the apartment, I drew a hot bath. The rope fantasy I’d had earlier in the day had gone down the drain. It just didn’t make sense now. Right now, I just needed to hold my tiger. Let her know she was mine. And make up for punishing her. And rid myself of guilt. I felt bad about my angry fuck, yet she’d seemed turned on, not offended.

After peeling off her clothes which I intended to burn since Dickwick had touched them, I helped her into the tub. My tub was luxurious. Big enough to let six foot three me stretch out, and it had a Jacuzzi. Truthfully, due to our hectic work schedules, Jen and I hadn’t enjoyed it much. Mostly, we took showers together.

I watched as she sunk into the breast deep water. Her sigh was like a symphony to my ears. Turning on the Jacuzzi, I shrugged off my clothes and joined her, settling behind her. She was in my arms, her body and head resting against my shoulders and chest. The water gurgled around us, the bubbling jets caressing and massaging. We were in a zone.

I grabbed a large sponge, squirted some liquid soap on it, and then began to wash her everywhere. Dickwick needed to be erased.

“I’m sorry about tonight, “ I breathed against her delicate neck as I washed the back of it and her shoulders. “Did I hurt you?”

She arched back in to me, splaying her hands on my thighs under the water.

“No, Blake. You can never hurt me.”

I pondered her soft words. They were true. I wasn’t capable of hurting her. My burning desire to protect her and fear of losing her ruled me. I’d never thought about the consequences of my actions with any woman. She made me feel things—emotions—I’d never experienced. And sometimes go to extremes. Kill for her I had to. I wanted to be her super hero forever.

Silently, I continued to sponge her. She hummed into the percussion of the bubbles. As I soaped her tender tits, her chest rose and fell against me. My cock rose beneath her. Her half-wet ponytail tickled me. Impulsively, I pulled it loose from its elastic band and it freefell, cascading over her shoulders like a velvet curtain. The silkiness grazed my chest.

Keeping one hand cupped on her pert little rosebud-tipped tit, I reached for the tube of shampoo. The only one she used. Gloria’s Secret Very Cherry Vanilla. I squeezed a few dollops onto her hair and, with both hands, began massaging it into her scalp until there was a lather. The erotic squishy sound and intoxicating scent of the shampoo aroused me, my cock and heart swelling with love and lust, one physically, the other emotionally. I had to have her. Not fuck her. But make love to her. She was thinking the same thing.

“Oh, Blake,” she said dreamily. “Take me. Make love to me.”Gently, I lifted her hips onto my erection. She lowered herself onto my thick, aching length, taking me all the way. God, she felt good. So fucking good. I squeezed my eyes shut and let her know with a moan. On the next heated breath, I was gliding in and out of her, my mouth showering her with kisses everywhere it could, my hands working her slick clit, the water bubbling with love. We came passionately together.